Farewell
by OG Fan
Summary: What Captain James may have been thinking the day of Smurf's funeral


**My second attempt at Fan Fiction. Just my thoughts on what Captain James felt on the day of the funeral.**

He left the church, got in the car and just sat there. Motionless. Dazed. He felt completely and utterly lost. He gazed out of the windscreen, the outlook invisible to him. All he could see was Molly as she got in the car to go back to Smurf's house, face crumpled, tears rolling down her cheeks, her body shaking as she tried to control her sobs. He'd stood there, immobile, unable to do anything. Helpless. It had taken a strength he didn't know he had to keep from going to her, to keep his hands by his sides, not to touch her, comfort her. To take her in his arms and hold her, brush the tears from her face. He raked his hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of the day. He could honestly say today it had been the hardest day of his life.

He'd been in the kitchen at home when Molly had phoned him to tell him about Smurf's death. She'd sounded much as she'd looked today. Inconsolable. Grief-stricken. He hadn't been able to understand what she was saying at first, her voice raspy but rushed, every couple of words punctuated by a sob. "He collapsed…I thought.. he was messing about.. I couldn't do anything, Boss. I tried, god I tried but…. it … didn't work."

"Who, Molly?" he'd questioned her urgently, rendered static by her obvious distress. "What are you talking about? What didn't work?"

"Smurf, Boss…. I couldn't save him, I couldn't… oh god". All he could hear then was her muffled cries, as if she had her hand over her mouth.

When he'd realised what she was trying to tell him, he was stunned. Felt like he'd been hit by a truck. He'd leaned on the kitchen counter for support. It was as if the kitchen had suddenly shrunk, like the walls were closing in on him. His first reaction had been disbelief. Why? How? But almost immediately, his concern for Molly had taken over, helpless as he stood there, 120 miles away from her, trying in vain to offer comfort, to say the right words to somehow ease her distress, whilst frantically formulating a plan in his head as to how he could get to her. He'd said he'd drive there, even though he probably shouldn't with his leg but that was the least of his worries. He could be there in 2 hours, to be with her. But she'd said no. Her parents had seen the ambulance and her Mum had been with her when she called, and Smurf's mum, Candy, was on the way from Newport. She wanted to be there when she arrived. He'd told her that he loved her, that it would be alright and he'd be by his phone if she needed him.

And that was how they'd left it. He'd tried calling 2 or 3 times later that day when he hadn't heard from her but it had gone straight to voicemail. He'd sent text after text asking how she was, letting her know he was there for her day or night. But her replies were brief, to the point. She'd phoned 2 days later, saying she was going back to Newport with Candy. It was stilted, unnatural. It was as if she was right on the edge, that she was only just managing to hold herself together. He heard the control in her voice, false, hardened, no hint at emotion. It had torn at his heart because he knew how much she must be hurting to act like that. It was the polar opposite of her natural personality.

They'd only had one call since then. Last night, the eve of Smurf's funeral, when she'd broken down. She confessed she'd known how hard it would be to go back to Newport, surrounded by Smurf's stuff, his family and friends. All reminders of the R&R they'd spent together. But she'd thought she'd owed it to Smurf, to be there for his Mum "'cos who else did she have left?" She sobbed as she said she hadn't realised just how hard it would be, being with Candy, when she knew all about Smurf's feelings for her. She'd felt the pressure rising, felt it pressing down on her. She'd given her the engagement ring back, explaining how Smurf had given it to her. But Candy had said she wanted Molly to keep it, saying that Smurf would have wanted her to. Molly had said it was the final straw. She'd gone up to the bedroom at Smurf's and phoned him. And it had all come tumbling out, she'd been falling over her words in a rush to explain. The guilt was eating her up, she'd said. That it was all her fault. That she must have encouraged him to fall for her in the first place, she felt guilty for not feeling the same, for choosing him instead, for kissing him in the compound when Smurf had seen, for causing the shooting. And on top of all that, she was supposed to be his best mate and she hadn't realised there was something wrong. She'd been there when he said he was getting headaches, she should have known, seen the signs, done something. She was a fucking medic for God's sake. How come she'd spoken up on tour when she was worried about him but hadn't when they'd got home. And she was there when he'd collapsed, but hadn't been able to save him. That was her job. And she'd failed. An epic fail again.

He'd listened to it all, and when she finally stopped, her words giving way to sobs, he'd set out how wrong she was, so wrong, but he'd known she wasn't taking it in, too wrapped up in her shame. He'd just hoped, prayed, that his words would be absorbed over time, that she'd come to realise it wasn't her weight to carry, that she didn't have to shoulder this burden.

And so to the funeral today. He'd been waiting at the church when she arrived. They'd held each other's gaze for a second as she got out of the car with Candy before she looked away. They were back to Captain James and Private Dawes. Officer and medic. He knew they had no other choice and today was not about them. In his head he'd known it wasn't the time or the place to be thinking of their relationship and his need to protect her, look after her. In some ways that was exactly the reason they were here. If he'd been able to put his feelings to one side, control himself, Smurf might still be alive. But his heart was saying it was Molly. Pure and simple. It was Molly. His Molly. How could he stand aside and not go to her?

In fact, it was everyone else who dictated how he had to behave. Molly kept her distance, controlled by the occasion. Mourning her best friend, one of the section, her army family. Still shouldering that mixture of guilt and responsibility, anxious that no-one suspected that Smurf had lost control because he'd seen her kissing him. Her eyes full of tears met with his once or twice, almost involuntarily, looking for solace for a moment before going back to Smurf's coffin.

And the rest of the section were equally subdued. Smurf's death had been a massive shock to everyone. They'd come straight to the hospital from Brize Norton en masse to see him and Smurf. Mainly Smurf in all honesty. The whole section had been in high spirits after getting home, seeing Smurf alive and well. Well not exactly well but on the mend. The banter between them as it always was. Smurf giving as good as he got. The whole section was numb today, looking at him as their officer for the answers, an explanation. And he wasn't able to do that, he came up blank. He still couldn't get over why no-one had picked up that Smurf wasn't right. Should he have seen a sign? Was his attitude on tour indicative of what was happening? Should he have done more?

At the end of the service, he'd stood in the church grounds, watching the section and watching Molly, desperate to put the clock back, do things differently. Would it have saved Smurf? Hand on heart, would he change anything with Molly?

At that moment, Candy had walked over to him, said she'd given the Army her boys and they'd given her a flag. What she meant was she'd given HIM her sons. He'd been responsible for them, they'd been in his charge. And now they were dead. Both of them. She had no children left.

His anguish became palpable. It was all because of him. He'd let them down. Let Candy down. And what could he say in response? Nothing. Because it was true. She was right, one hundred percent. There was absolutely nothing he could say, he couldn't offer any words of comfort, no apology. It would be meaningless. On the face of it, she'd looked dignified in her grief in church, but when she'd spoken to him and she was close enough that he could look in her face, he could see the emptiness and sorrow. He couldn't bring them back, Christ, he'd do anything to bring them back.

Molly had come to find him after the service but by that point, he was equally overcome by the day. It was strangely uncomfortable between them, each inwardly battling with their guilt and remorse. Despite it all, he wanted to reach out to her, to connect. To make sure Bath and everything they'd shared wasn't a figment of his imagination. He struggled to make sense of the situation, was this reality? Had it all been a fantasy? He couldn't comprehend what a difference 14 days could make. He remembered how he'd felt when she'd walked into the restaurant and their eyes had met. With every bone in his body it had felt right, that somehow or other they'd be together. God, he knew things would be tough, that they'd face obstacles in making a future together, but he'd known in that moment of time that it was a challenge he was ready to face head on. And the way she'd looked at him made him think she felt exactly the same.

To be honest, he'd known for months that it was something special, that she was fast becoming a big part of his life. Six months was a long time when you were living in such close proximity to each other but he'd fallen hard and fast. He'd noticed her straight away, how she'd laughed at his name-calling of the section before they'd even got on the plane, even though she shouldn't have. She was feisty, not afraid to say what she thought and although he'd thought that was a recipe for disaster, she'd proved him wrong. She just wanted to be good at what she did, to fit in, make a difference – aims he'd striven for himself. And she did it with humour and a massive heart. So despite his best intentions, she'd got under his skin. He looked back now and realised that he probably singled her out at the start – like the speed dating quip or the stilettos put down – just to challenge her because he wanted to know more about her, see her succeed. He thought about her development as a soldier and a medic, and it seemed ironic that her bravest act when she had absolutely no hesitation in going through a minefield and up on that winch to save Smurf, had been wasted. It didn't change his admiration for her though, not in the slightest and actually, it probably took as much courage for her to get through today as it did to go through that minefield. A different type of courage maybe, but courage nonetheless.

But that had been in Afghan, on tour. In a little bubble, away from every day life. That's why it had meant so much in Bath. That they still felt the same way as they had at that compound, when they'd kissed, now they were back home, with all the ramifications of that. Their families, being apart. Potentially not being the Army. Him being injured. And she'd still wanted him as he wanted her. But what now? Today had been such a bloody mess.

As he switched on the ignition, he thought about their parting words. She'd told him that she'd taken his advice and got a short tour to Afghan. She'd caught him off guard, he wasn't expecting that, she hadn't mentioned it. He knew she'd been thinking about it, but maybe Smurf's death had made the decision for her. He knew she needed to do it, he'd bloody suggested it at the restaurant, and he'd told her today it was the right decision, that she needed to sort out her world and everything in it. Jesus though, after today, he just prayed that her world, when she was ready, would include him.


End file.
